


Dimensions

by chellachaz



Series: After the Fall [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Again Fear is a douche, Belittling of Mental Illness, Crying, Dark Sides, Deceit is good and supportive, Depression, Dissociation, Fear is a douche, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I should give Logan more screentime, Immobilization, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Patton is a good guy, Pride!Roman, Roman has issues, Roman struggles with depression, Self-Hatred, Some angst, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Symptoms of Mental Illness, Their issues clash a little bit, They're emotional dorks though, Unhealthy Relationships, Virgil has issues, Virgil helps to the best of his ability, kid!virgil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 16:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18575005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellachaz/pseuds/chellachaz
Summary: Roman suffers a major depressive episode. Virgil tries to help.





	Dimensions

**Dimensions**

Virgil had noticed Roman’s slightly off behavior for the past couple of days, so it hadn’t necessarily surprised him when the creative side didn’t show up for breakfast. When lunchtime arrived without any appearance from the prince, Virgil set about gathering a tray of Roman’s favorite snack foods along with a cold compress and a few water bottles.

“I presume those are for Roman?” Logan called from the living room sofa.

“Yeah,” Virgil grunted, adjusting the tray against his torso and angling towards the stairs.

“Do you require any assistance?”

Virgil blinked, caught off-guard, once again, by the novelty of a supportive environment and of a family who would _help_ him help Roman. Smiling, he spared Logan a glance.

“Nah, I got it. Thanks though, L.”

“Very well.” The logical side leaned back and reopened his briefly abandoned novel. “Do call if you change your mind.”

With a nod, Virgil trooped up the stairs and towards the third door down – regal red and maroon interspersed with swirls of gold and splashes of silver glitter. He gave it two calm, measured knocks. “Ro, it’s me.”

Silence.

“I’m coming in.”

He set the tray on Roman’s desk, carefully sweeping aside some of the most recent draft papers, and softly shut the door. He sighed and turned around.

Roman looked smaller than usual, curled up and twitching slowly, almost apathetically, under his blankets. Around him lay an assortment of possessions, displaced over the past few days of use. Pens, colored pencils, and his favorite set of headphones lay just out of reach atop the coverlet while yesterday’s outfit had been shoved to the foot of the bed and a notebook lay open on the floor. Virgil approached, feeling discordant and intrusive. He reached out as if to touch Roman, but then thought better of it. “Ro?”

Roman blinked sluggishly, seeming not to notice Virgil’s presence.

“Roman, can you talk to me?”

Nothing.

“Alright, that’s okay...I brought food. And water...But you’re gonna have to sit up for it.”

When Roman made no movement, Virgil grabbed onto his shoulders and gently started to pull. A heart-wrenching keen, however, made him retract his hands as if shocked. He stared helplessly as Roman started crying.

Apparently, the royal didn’t want to be touched right now. But he needed to eat or, at the very least, hydrate.

He briefly considered Logan’s offer, but what good would another person do while Roman clearly wanted to be alone? And would Roman want anyone to see him in this state? He always seemed loathe to let Virgil witness it, once he regained his lucidity. Virgil would always assure him that he didn’t mind, that he understood, but honestly?

Seeing Roman like this scared Virgil. It always had, from the first time he’d witnessed it as a child and feared that his progenitor was dying. He’d run to Fear then.

_“Father! Father, something’s wrong with Pride!”_

_Virgil skidded to a halt as Fear’s eyes found him and pinned him in place._

_“What have I said about interrupting me, boy?”_

_Virgil swallowed hard and ducked his head. “I-I’m sorry, sir...But Pride-”_

_“Ah, let me guess. He’s lying in bed, awake but unresponsive? Wallowing in his own grime?”_

_Virgil’s head snapped up. Fear knew what was wrong with Pride! Fear could fix him!_

_Fear wordlessly led him back to Pride’s bedroom, but stopped at the door, signaling for Anxiety to do the same._

_“Nothing is wrong with Pride,” he explained, “Save for his own weakness.”_

_“Weakness?” the boy echoed in confoundment. How could weakness hang so heavily on a man as to pin him down to the earth? What weakness could trap Pride, of all sides, within his own body, unable to lift his arm, let alone his sword?_

_How could weakness be stronger than the strongest person he knew?_

_“Yes.” Utter disgust colored Fear’s voice. “And if you ever show similar weakness, I’ll beat it right out of you.”_

_“Yes, sir.”_

_With that, Fear opened the door and came swiftly to Pride’s bedside. Anxiety stayed at the door; he didn’t want to see Pride get punished._

_However, Fear merely laid a hand on Pride’s shoulder. “Oh, Roman. My poor baby. Are you having a bad day?”_

_Pride looked up at his boyfriend with desperate, glassy eyes. He opened his mouth, but made no sound._

_“You’ve frightened poor little Anxiety, darling. I rushed here as soon as I heard.”_

_‘No, you didn’t,’ Virgil thought, but knew better than to say it aloud. Deceit would be proud of him. Virgil knew the value of lies._

_Still, it unnerved him to watch one of his parents exaggeratedly coo over the other when he knew the truth._

_“I’d hoped you could help me today, love. I really do need you for something. But I guess you don’t feel up to it, huh?”_

_Pride’s face creased with effort. He tried, oh so ardently, to say, do something._

_To get up, Virgil realized. To be of service._

_“It’s a shame,” Fear continued as though unaware of his lover’s anguish. “I thought I could count on you, Roman, but I know you have days like this – days when you need to be selfish.”_

_Pride flinched._

_“There’s nothing wrong with that. I just expected a little more from you. Oh, well. I suppose I’ll handle some of your duties today.”_

_Without a further glance, he turned from the very picture of suffering._

_“Come along, Anxiety,” he said, already out the door._

_The last Virgil saw of Roman that day had been the tears streaming down his face._

“Roman…” Virgil swallowed and tried to make his voice soothing. “Roman, you need to get up. Come on, man.”

Roman’s mouth and eyes scrunched up tight as twin tears made their way down his reddening cheeks. He took a few haggard breaths before looking up at Virgil. In a sob, he pleaded, “I’m sorry, Julius, I can’t.”

Virgil’s heart crawled up into his throat.

They all looked alike – like Thomas – but only Virgil had been intentionally made to resemble another side.

Roman only mistook Virgil for Fear on his worst days.

It sickened him. Every. Single. Time.

“I’m not him,” Virgil mumbled, stepping backward as ringing began to fill his ears. “Why…?”

_‘Why are you always thinking of him? I’m the one who's here, with you, trying to help you.’_

“It’s Virgil, not Julius. **I’m** **_Virgil_ ** **, Roman.”**

_‘How do I get him out of your head?’_

_‘It’s not fair!’_

_‘I love you! He doesn’t!’_

**_‘Why am I so much less important to you?!’_ **

“Virgil!”

The anxious side came back to the reality of Roman sitting up, ever so slightly, propped on one elbow. The prince’s face had gone white, and he clutched at his chest as if his heart were splintering. “Virgil, I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean...You’re not less important, I swear! I didn’t realize-”

_‘I said that out loud.’_

Virgil sunk out amongst Roman’s increasingly frantic pleas for him to stay and lamented just how much he resembled his father in that moment.

Whenever Roman needed them most, they both would leave him.

* * *

  _‘You called him Julius.’_

The thought filled his head and grew larger than the rest of him as he stared at the spot Virgil had stood in moments before.

_‘YOU CALLED HIM-’_

The strength he’d fruitlessly sought all morning slammed into him with a vengeance.

Roman roared as he hurled his bedside lamp at the door. Metal twisted upon impact and the bulb shattered almost loudly enough to soothe him. He stared, panting, at the mess, unable to forget Virgil’s countenance before he’d fled.

 _‘How many times will I betray him?’_ he despaired, _‘How many times will I tear him down?’_

He lunged out of bed. His legs tingled from disuse and his shirt cloyed with nightmare sweat. He felt disgusting.

_‘Fucking monster. Can’t even keep from hurting your own-’_

“Ro?”

He spun around fast enough to nearly trip. Patton stood near the door, surveying the broken glass and bent metal at his feet.

“Pa-” His throat felt full of clay. “Patton, what are you…?”

“I, uh...I came across Virgil in the hallway. He looked pretty upset, but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. Just said I needed to check on you. And then I heard a crash, so…”

“Oh. I...um…” Roman’s mind blanked as he fumbled for an excuse, an explanation, anything. Was Deceit on strike again? “I…”

Patton didn’t push him. Just looked at him with those same gentle eyes that had always made him feel safe.

Roman didn’t _want_ to feel safe. He’d hurt his stormcloud.

“Patton,” he sobbed, and that was it. The moral side strode forward, put an arm around him, and started leading him towards his bed.

“No!” Roman objected, perhaps a little too loudly. He feared that the mattress would steal his strength again the moment he touched it. Patton, amazingly, didn’t question it and let the prince drag them down to the floor, where he collapsed on his side and cried.

It took Roman a long time to calm down and explain what had happened. He lay stewing an eternity, but Patton only cradled him and stroked his unkempt hair.

“You take your time, Ro,” he murmured without a hint of condescension, “I’ll be right here.”

* * *

 Contrary to Roman’s speculations, Deceit had not gone on strike. The scaled side had actually been trying to dissect the sudden surge in emotion that had settled over the mindscape when someone knocked, haphazard and hurried, on his door.

He started to brace himself for a possible confrontation with Fear before remembering that he didn’t live with the Dark Sides anymore. Roman and the others had offered him a place, and he would’ve been a fool not to take it.

Still, one couldn’t be too careful. “Come in,” he called, keeping an eye on the door.

It creaked slowly open to reveal Virgil.

“Well, well. If it isn’t our favorite night terror...To what do I owe this visit?”

No response. Deceit frowned and walked over to his doorway. “Virgil. What is it?”

The anxious side glanced up at Deceit, looking utterly lost, and placed both hands over his mouth. Through them, he released a hoarse whisper:

“Dee, I’m a bad person.”

Now that was a lie if he ever heard one, but Virgil clearly believed it.

“Get in,” Deceit said. Virgil wasted no more time in rushing forward and throwing himself onto the older side’s bed. He started to sob quietly.

Deceit locked his door and strode over to Virgil. “What happened?”

“R-Roman had a bad day...”

“And?”

The only surprising thing about Roman’s depression was that the creative side thought people didn’t know about it. Deceit wasn’t unsympathetic, but it made no sense to him that Virgil, who cared for Roman firsthand more often than not, would be this upset over a relapse.

“He thought I was...He called me Julius.”

Oh.

“And…” Virgil sniffled. “I might have yelled at him...I shouldn’t have done that. He was just confused and sad and hurt, and I yelled at him! I’m just as bad as-”

“Don’t.”

Deceit hated to hear Virgil speak ill of himself almost as much as Patton did, and Virgil knew that. He glared up at the lying side and snarled, “Like father, like son.”

“You are nothing like him,” Deceit hissed back.

“Prove it.”

Deceit growled in frustration and crawled onto the bed, roughly pulling Virgil against him in a one-armed hug. “You little twerp. If anything, you’re just like Roman, with this never-ending self-flagellation.”

Virgil snorted weakly. Progress.

“What makes you think you’re anything like Fear?”

Virgil tilted his head to stare at Deceit in the most condescending fashion he could muster. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m literally his, like, mini-me or whatever Roman intended. Or that he’s _Fear_ and I’m _Anxiety?_ Or – oh, I know! – _I look just like him_ , to the point where Roman sometimes forgets we’re not the same person!” He ended in a shout.

Deceit raised an eyebrow, wordlessly returning Virgil’s sarcasm. The younger side broke eye contact after a moment, irrationally ashamed of his outburst. Deceit took Virgil’s chin in hand, turned it this way and that. He made contemplative humming noises as he scanned every inch of Virgil’s face with his mismatched eyes.

Before Virgil could ask for an explanation, Deceit let go and nodded definitively, as if the universe had just spoken to him.

“I don’t see it.”

“What?”

“I don’t see it. No resemblance at all. Not even a little bit. I think you must be adopted.”

Virgil managed to glare for about ten seconds. Deceit held his gaze, but eventually let loose a lopsided smirk. Virgil smiled despite himself and shook his head.

“Heh. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Virgil. I’ve never seen anyone with such an individualistic bone structure. We should have Logan study you.”

“Shut up. You can’t just make me laugh and pretend everything’s okay.”

“No,” Deceit agreed, eyes sobering, “I can’t. But I wasn’t totally lying. Whatever Princey imagines in his fever dreams, _no one_ sees that man in you. You’re too...you.”

“Eloquent.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Not really,” Virgil admitted. He looked down and picked at his sleeve.

Deceit watched him and sighed. “You...Virgil, even as a child, you had something about you. Something so unique...Everyone sees it, and someday, I hope you will too. For now, just know that you’re so much more than your father will ever be.”

Virgil blinked, struggling to take in what Deceit had said. It made no sense to him. A lie?

He looked up at the man next to him and decided not. Virgil knew the value of lies, and he sensed none here.

“Thank you, Dee.” He shifted, embarrassed by his lack of composure.

“No problem, kid...Now that you’re over your existential crisis, you think Roman’s recovered from his?”

Roman.

_“Shit!”_

* * *

 Roman had just finished filling Patton in when they felt the presence of another side.

“ROMAN!”

Patton instinctively dodged away from the blur of black and purple that collided with Roman and draped itself over him, speaking a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Roman, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

From his place beneath the rambling bundle of angst, Roman smiled tiredly up at Patton with humor twinkling in his eyes.

_I’ve got this._

Patton chuckled and sunk out.

Roman waited for Virgil to calm down a bit so he could get a word in edgewise, but frowned when the smaller side only worked himself up into hyperventilation.

“Virgil. _Breathe._ ”

Obediently, Virgil sucked in a breath and curled silently into Roman, whimpering softly.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Roman coaxed, still a bit dazed from his earlier dissociation, “It’s okay. You’re fine. _I’m_ sorry.”

“But-”

“Shh. No, you were right to be upset. How many times have I done that? Answer me honestly.”

“...Four or five maybe?”

Roman closed his eyes. _Okay. You screwed up. Now fix it._

“Virgil…”

“It’s fine. I get it. You were confused. I shouldn’t-”

“Virgil. While I’m grateful that you don’t hold me accountable for what I say when I’m not all there, _you have a right to feel hurt._ I compared you, however unintentionally, to someone horrible. I did it right to your face and didn’t even notice.” He carded a hand through Virgil’s hair. “You can’t protect me from my own actions forever, stormcloud.”

 _‘Yes, I can,’_ Virgil wanted to protest. _‘Yes, I will.’_

Instead, he lay silent and allowed his elder to hold him. After a few minutes, Roman grimaced and sat up. Unsteady, he leaned back on his hands. “Okay, I need a shower. You can go if-”

“No, we’re watching a movie together. And eat something before you shower. I don’t need you passing out in there.”

“You don’t have to-”

“A Disney movie, Roman.”

“...Don’t start without me.”

Roman quickly shoved a few grapes in his mouth, took a sip of water, and grabbed a change of clothes. He turned back to see Virgil setting up the TV and sifting through his film collection.

 _‘He’s so...good,’_ Roman realized, not for the first time. _‘Certainly doesn’t get that from either of us.’_

The prince shook his head and slipped into the bathroom.

_‘Of course not...Some parts of Virgil are purely Virgil. Wouldn’t have him any other way.’_

* * *

  _The next day, Virgil stood to greet Pride, in all his usual splendor. Composed of sharp edges and sleek grace, the older side strode with a hand braced on his sword and an easy smirk on his face._

_That smirk faltered when he saw the child standing before him._

_“Fear took over your combat training yesterday?”_

_“Yes, sir,” the boy answered, somewhat unnecessarily. The bruise spanning his temple told all._

_Pride brooded silently, causing Virgil to shift on the balls of his feet._

_Then, the smirk returned. “Well, playtime’s over. Fear’s got other things to do, and training you is my job. Hope you’ve enjoyed the break.”_

_(I won’t give him another excuse to hurt you.)_

_Virgil couldn’t help the toothy smile that broke out as he mimicked the other’s haughty stance._

_“What am I learning today?”_

* * *

  _Virgil knew, as surely as he knew anything, that what he’d seen the previous morning hadn’t been weakness._

_Merely a different side of strength._


End file.
